Page 145 of Tessa and Nash

February 1st

“You ready?”

Boone’s voice sends an icy chill down my spine. I might look ready in my suit, ready to perform, but I sure as shit don’t feel it.

Dallas calls from the hallway that Rusty already stole my other boot, Faith chirps from the kitchen about how excited she is for the first barn dance of the year, and my soul tries to crawl out of my body and run away into the pasture.

I’m not in the mood for fiddle music and beer breath, or Mayor Caldwell’s polite smile that says I’m still watching you. Not for Hank Lawson’s smug face when he sees me walk in like I’m not currently carrying a land dispute in my ribs, and definitely not for Clara Jenkins trying to suck all the gossip out of me.

Maybe not even for Tessa.

Which is the problem.

Because I want her.

And wanting her is standing too close to the edge of something that could collapse.

I drag my hands down my face and stare at myself in the hallway mirror, trying to recognize the guy looking back.

He looks fine. That’s what I’m going for.

Fine is safe. It’s manageable, and it doesn’t make Boone tilt his head and ask questions I can’t answer without detonating everything.

I yank my jacket on and step into the kitchen.

Mom’s ready too. Hair pinned back, earrings in, lipstick a shade that says I survived raising four boys and I will survive this town too. She’s already poured herself coffee, preparing for the barn dance like a battle, not a social event.

Rose is fussing with Ellie’s hair while Wyatt climbs onto a chair he’s not supposed to be on. Faith is adjusting her earrings in the reflection of the microwave door. Dallas is checking his phone with the quiet intensity of a man who would rather audit paperwork than socialize as Lila tries to climb up his leg.

Boone looks up when I enter and clocks me in one glance. “You look like you’re headed to a funeral.”

“Barn dance,” I mutter. “Same thing.”

Faith laughs. “Nash, come on. It’ll be fun.”

“Fun,” I echo, because the word feels foreign lately.

Boone’s eyes narrow.

Rose pauses mid-braid. “You don’t sound thrilled.”

“I’m thrilled,” I say, deadpan. “Ecstatic. Overjoyed. Can’t wait for someone’s elbow to go through my ribs while we attempt to line dance.”

Faith snorts. “You’re such a baby.”

“Am I?” I shoot back. “Or do I just have standards?”

Boone’s gaze stays on me. “Where’s Tessa?”

My stomach tightens.

“She’s… meeting us there,” I say.

Dallas’s brow lifts slightly. “Meeting us there?”

“Yeah,” I say too fast. “She had… stuff. Town Hall stuff.”

Mom’s eyes sharpen. She doesn’t say anything, but I feel her attention as a weight.